


Unheard

by Nolinjes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt No Comfort, Illness, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nolinjes/pseuds/Nolinjes
Summary: Keith is trapped inside a collapsed building, with no way out and no hope of anyone saving him. As he lays there, injured and waiting for the inevitable, his mind wanders to his past, on everything and everyone that made him who he is today.





	Unheard

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was born after reading many fics where people could ask for help but didn’t. I wanted to do it in reverse: Keith wants to survive, but no one can hear him (and also, angst). Luck was on my side, as Keith mini bang was starting around the time, so of course I decided to jump in. : D Worth it, as this is my longest one shot and finished fic ever. :’D
> 
> My incredible beta, [Shanimal](http://klanstability.tumblr.com), made sure this piece is not a complete mess, with the time she had! Where she waved her wand, the text got so much better. She’s a real life (or fic?)-saver!  
> And of course, you should check out the other works submitted to the [Keith Mini Bang](http://keithminibang.tumblr.com)! We all love Keith, even if we show it in weird ways, sometimes. :D
> 
> Feedback is always welcome, especially in case I managed to sneak in some last-minute grammar mistakes, typos, or such while editing. Also, I started writing this before S5-6 came out, so I’ve taken some creative freedom with Keith’s dad.

Keith was encased in darkness, pain as his only companion. He could hardly move beneath all the rubble that was pinning him to the ground. A wide steel beam had fallen across his legs and nearly crushed them under the weight of the material that had piled on top. He had tried to move, but the beam hadn’t budged, and he now knew his legs were most likely broken, and that any struggle would only make it worse. The movement had also caused searing pain shoot through his back. He’d screamed, the sound not having room to even echo, filling the small space around him only for a moment.

His neck ached at the awkward angle he was propped up in, and a hard corner of a piece of concrete poked persistently against his right shoulder. He had tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but his armor seemed caught on something – just one more thing keeping him stuck in this pile of

One thought rose above the rest, a loud realization that made his stomach feel heavy and the warmth escape from his hands. No one would come for him. It wasn’t the Blade way of living. As much as he wanted to be helped, to get out of here, he knew it wasn’t going to go like that. It was Voltron that was about the people, and he wasn’t with them, anymore.

He hadn’t expected this mission to be a breeze, but it had gone much further south and a lot earlier than anyone had been anticipating. Kolivan had sent Keith with two other Blades to a small planet called Aleqar. It was mostly sand all around, dry and battered by heat whenever the sun was out. The planet was home to a mining colony that worked closely with the Empire, and rumor had it, the metal they mined here hadn’t been found anywhere else in the universe. It was light but extremely durable, and the Empire was looking into using it as weapons and possibly in ships. Keith had expected they’d be sent to sabotage, but instead, Kolivan wanted them to find out if it had weaknesses they could exploit if they ever encountered it.

Getting to the main building had been the easy part. Most of it was underground, with only one floor rising above, and the fence surrounding it wasn’t yet complete as the base was still new. The security wasn’t high as the base was far from the cities, and the metal itself wasn’t imported through this building. Most of the guards were keeping the miners and the other residents in check, and it hadn’t been difficult to figure out the routine on the guard’s perimeter check. Getting through the door had been a simple matter of short-circuiting the access panel, which hadn’t taken more than a second or two thanks to the tech skill of another Blade, Maliv. She had led them through the long, quiet corridor and towards the command center, where they hoped they would find what they were looking for.

They were passing by the first turn when something shot past on their right, missing Keith’s face by just millimeters and cracking the wall next to him -- whatever the gun shot, it wasn’t plasma. Keith spun around, ready to rush for an attack. Instead, he stumbled when another shot shattered his Blade armor and tore into his side. He fell back from the impact, only somewhat aware of someone dashing by him.

He pressed his hand against the injury, and as he looked down, he saw blood. That wasn’t right…

“Get up,” he heard Maliv say from next to him, and Keith’s blinked, more aware of his surroundings again.

A pained shriek carried from further down the corridor as Tidri thrust his blade to the shooter’s chest, killing him. When he came back, Tidri’s moves were sharp with barely contained anger, and his voice was cold, displeased. “They probably know we’re here,” he said, and down his nose glanced at Keith. “Let’s go.”

Keith’s hold to his blade was tight as he expected to see an enemy behind the corner every time they turned. His heart beat fast in his chest, and the adrenaline dulled the pain in his side to a nasty throb. The enemy might’ve been aware of their presence, but they still reached their destination without another incident. However, just as Maliv was about to open the door, they saw someone come bursting from a room to the right of them. Keith, being the closest, stepped forward. As he straightened to push his blade through the clothes and armor and to the enemy’s heart, his injured side flared up. He hissed, but at least he managed to kill the enemy before he could draw his gun or even properly process what he’d seen. Keith, resisting the urge to press a hand to his side, knelt down to take the Galra’s the gun for himself. He nodded at the other two from the floor level. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he said, out of breath. Getting back up was hard, he would’ve preferred curling up and waiting for the worst to pass, but the mission was at stake here, so he knew he would just have to ignore the pain until they’d get back to their ship.

Maliv got through this door just as easily as she had through the first one, and she went in with Tidri, while Keith remained outside, shooting another guard walking into his view. From within the room, he heard sounds of fighting, sounds that soon ceased.

Only for an alarm to start blaring.

Keith’s heart skipped a beat and something cold settled in his stomach. He heard cursing from the room, and something he thought was a blade cutting into flesh, but he couldn’t be sure, not through the loud sound.

It didn’t take long for the two Blades to come out, but by then the sounds of quick steps were approaching. Keith keeping last, they hurried towards the exit, Maliv and Tidri easily taking out anyone who came in their way. Keith had a hard time keeping up with them, the distance between him and the other Blades growing by the second, but he knew there was no use calling after the other two, they wouldn’t wait-

The boom of an explosion shook the building, stopping Keith in his tracks.

Dust and pieces of concrete fell from the ceiling, and that got Keith moving again. In the space between him and the other Blades stepped another enemy, a Galra who seemed to be young and eager to prove himself. He raised his gun, pointing it at Keith before he could react. The Galra’s grin was wiped away by a chunk of the ceiling falling on his head, almost surely killing him.

Keith picked up his pace again. Maliv and Tidri must have made it out already, meaning his window for boarding their ship before they took off was losing fast.

A lone Galra rushed from a corridor to the left. Keith aimed the gun at him.

Nothing happened.

Of all the times for it to malfunction-

He had no need for useless extra weight, so he tossed the gun at the enemy, hoping to distract him to get an opening. A light flashed at the muzzle of the enemy’s weapon just as Keith’s hit him to his face. Keith staggered to the side as the shot flew past him. The building shook again as another explosion tore the air. This time, cracks shot across the floor, and Keith finally lost his balance, falling -thankfully- on his uninjured side. Keith turned to his back, but when he tried to get up, the world swam, and his side burned. His back hit the floor again, and that’s when he saw it.

The ceiling was coming down. He wouldn’t be able to get away in time.

He threw his arms to his face as the floor beneath him collapsed, taking him down with it. 

Just like that, it was all over. He woke up a moment later, trapped underneath rubble that by some miracle hadn't crushed him on its way down. Not completely, anyway, he thought as something above caved in a little, pushing the beam even harder against his legs.

The other Blades had gotten away. They would report he fell behind, died on the mission. By all odds, he should have been dead already. But the universe seemed to like bullying him.

 _You're alive, and you want to live, but you have no way of asking help_ ,' it seemed to say, cackling as he could do nothing but either accept his fate or try to keep fighting a battle that might end up futile no matter what he did. He couldn’t move, and even if he got free somehow, he wouldn't be able to walk. The bleeding from the wound on his side was slower, but it wasn’t his only injury. He thought could very well bleed to death, if he didn't get crushed first.

He heard noise from the piece of concrete above him. He was sure he saw a crack appear, a thin line that slithered across its surface. Tiny pieces of debris fell from above, one bouncing off his cheek and falling to the floor next to him. There must have been an inch less of space between his face and the thing that could crush it without a moment's notice.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. He needed to calm down. There had to be some way out of this. He raised his right hand to his mouth to speak into the wrist comm given to him by the Blade, but it was gone. He let it flop back down to the ground, and pain shot up his back, reminding him yet again of his other injuries. He carefully moved his other hand from the wound on his side to gauge the damage.

His hand wrapped around something round, hard, uneven: a metal rod sticking from the broken piece of concrete. It had dug through his Blade armor, and into his shoulder. It was slick with his blood.

A rumble sounded from overhead, and a large piece of the building fell somewhere to his right. His head snapped to look towards the block. Nothing more seemed to be coming down, but for the moment, he forgot that might happen, as something else caught his attention.

Laying only a few short feet away, he saw his comm. Going by the snapped strap and the bruises forming on his wrist, it must have fallen off when the building collapsed.

He tried moving his right arm to the side to reach for the device, but the pain in his shoulder was too much. He cradled it with his left hand, willing the feeling to pass faster. He reached again but succumbed to the pain once more –there was no way he’d be able to reach it in his current position. He stared at the comm, his hand now unmoving as if he was just taking a break before trying to reach it again. He stared, but he wasn’t really seeing it.

In his daze of pain, his thoughts insisted on wandering. And with nothing better to do pinned beneath the rubble, he let them. They wandered on people he’d met, places he’d been. Memories of the past, feelings and emotions he'd never stopped to explore to know why they were there.

Only shortly did he stop to think of that old Earth saying about how in death, life flashes before your eyes.

 

* * *

 

The group of older kids had started following a while ago, calling after Keith and laughing at their own jokes. He picked up the pace in hopes of get them to fall behind or lose interest, but it was in vain. From a glance over his shoulder, he guessed they were maybe two, four years older than him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to win a fight against all of them, should it come to that, but that didn’t mean he was afraid to. He was tempted to turn around right there and then and tell them to get lost, but what good would that do? The group wouldn’t go away, he knew that. If anything, it would make them follow him even longer, waiting for the moment there were no bystanders to interfere.

The taunts made him curl his hands into fists, and tension struck his muscles. Why couldn’t they just leave him be?

Keith looked around, trying to find a place that would offer him a good escape or an advantage in case he would end up having to defend himself. He noticed an alley between two buildings, one a store that had closed its doors for the day, and the other an apartment building that had seen better days. The walls were coated in graffiti that hadn’t been washed away in years, and no one had bothered to replace the windows on the lower floors after someone had smashed them in. He turned to walk between them, hoping this would shake the kids off.

But when he rounded to the yard, instead of it leading to a broken window or to a door hanging from its hinges, he was faced with a brick wall and a wooden fence too high for him to climb. In other words, he'd found a dead end.

He turned around when he heard one of the taller kids snicker, and that’s when he noticed another, smaller alleyway. "Nowhere to run, shorty, is there?" the redhaired kid said as he stepped in front of the possible escape route. He was wider than any of his friends, and the freckles were plenty on his mean face. He didn't look like a leader, even if h had been the first to speak. The one stepping to the left to block his way back to the main street did. Tall and wiry, he seemed too clumsy for his long limbs. He flipped the slightly greasy mop of dark hair from his eyes. He didn't smile. He just looked at him like he was measuring him: how much would he fight back? How much fun would he be? Would he cry at the slightest insult, or would he bite his lip and pretend to be strong?

Keith squared his shoulders and stared right back, unblinking like a wolf challenging another. He knew their leader would’ve looked away eventually, but another kid rushed at him, shoving him to the side. He nearly lost his balance, having not seen the other one coming. He should've expected it, he thought, moving his eyes to see his attacker. Out of the five, he seemed the most aggressive. He wasn't tall like their leader and had only slightly more mass on him, but the fire in his dark eyes spoke of boldness that more than made up for any strength he might've been lacking.

The rest of the kids came closer, cornering him against the building and the fence. He looked at them all, thoughts of escape now discarded. He didn't run, he'd fight. He always fought. Life was survival of the fittest, and he wasn't anything but. He'd win, or he'd go down. No running.

A girl, who’d been sticking to their leader’s side until now, stepped forwards, her sharp face looking down at Keith like he was amusing and stupid, a little kitten that tried to catch the laser, only to slap its paws against the floor time and again, never learning there was nothing to catch. Keith bared his teeth, snarling at her for invading his personal space. “No need to hide in the corner. You’re the star of this event,” she said, fake cheerfulness in her high-pitched voice. She grabbed Keith by his shirt and turned them both around, pushing him to the center of the circle that had formed.

Before he could choose who to attack, their leader kicked the back of his knee, and Keith fell down on all fours. Turning as he got up, he charged at the boy, but the girl slammed into him, and he was thrown against the redhead. He grabbed Keith by his hair, forcing his head back. Keith placed his hands on his attacker’s and kicked his heel on his toes. Cursing, the kid let go but didn’t allow Keith to back away before he once again found himself on someone else.

The angry kid. Keith didn’t have time to regain his footing before the other took a hold of his shoulders, forcing him to bend over. He felt a knee contact with his stomach.

The freckle-faced kid pushed him again, but before Keith could either regain his balance or attack back, their leader grabbed the back of his shirt and turned to slam him against the fence. Something cut his forearm, but he didn’t stop to see what or how badly. He wiggled himself free of the hold, stepping forwards, punching without a care.

His fist contacted with an eye. A brown-haired boy with a large forehead backed away, yelling shortly in pain. Before Keith could go after him, the angry one grabbed his arm. Keith couldn’t shake himself free, so he did the next best thing. He brought his arm, and that of the attacker, closer to his face, and bit. The kid screamed, letting go and grabbing his injured arm with his healthy one. “You little shit-“ he began, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by another voice, certainly older than any of the rest in this forsaken backyard.

“I think it’s time you cut it out,” he said, and everyone turned to look at the man. Tall and built, standing straight, he had an air of confidence about him. Keith wasn’t sure that was all that got everyone to stand down for the moment. He felt like there was more to this man than just what he could see.

The angry kid scoffed. “I think this is none of your business. Get lost,” he spat, rubbing his arm but not showing his pain on his face.

The man was calm, not moving from his place or making any threatening gestures or expressions as he spoke, “I’m not here to pick up a fight. I just think you shouldn’t be doing that, either.”

"I can take care of myself," Keith snarled at the stranger. The man looked him over, and Keith was sure his eyes lingered on the wound in his arm for a little while.

“Yeah, you heard him,” the redhead said, “he’ll be fine. Stick your nose in someone else’s business.” He straightened, but he couldn’t in any way make up for the height difference between himself and the stranger. “Leave, or we’ll make you.”

“Look,” the stranger tried, “keep this up, and you’ll all end up in trouble sooner or later. It will only make your future more difficult.”

“Right, how?” the girl asked, arms crossed at her chest.

“You might not get to the school you want to,” the stranger said, “or get the job you want. When someone finds out you cause trouble, they will choose someone who can play by the rules, instead of you.”

The redhead glanced at the others, looking more uncertain now. The angry kid, however, just scoffed. “And how would they ever find out what happened?”

“I could tell them. Or they’ll find out about it if one of you gets seriously hurt.” The man looked at each one of the kids surrounding Keith, and they seemed to hesitate. “Go home,” he urged them. Couple more seconds and the unhappy group of bullies gave up, scuffling past him. The angry kid bumped into him as he passed, but the stranger ignored him, focusing on Keith. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I said I can take care of myself,” Keith spat, glaring at the man like intervening was the worst thing he could’ve done.

The man held his hands out in a peaceful gesture. "I just want to know if you're hurt."

"I'm fine," Keith huffed, hands crossed at his chest, hoping the other would take the hint and leave. A few seconds passed, but the man didn't move. Frustrated, Keith turned around, deciding on taking the longer route through the narrower alleys. He sure as hell wasn't going to risk going close that man. He headed towards the narrow space between two buildings when he heard a voice call after him. "At least let me see you home safely. It’s late, your family must be worried."

Without stopping or looking back, he said, "I don't have a family."

He entered the shadows, and no one came after him.

 

* * *

 

 “Help.” The voice was weak and sounded like it came from the other side of the wall of rubble, but it still startled Keith. He was sure it was one of the Galra, since he couldn’t recognize the voice as Kaliv’s nor Tidri’s.

“Help!” Now there was more force behind the voice, more desperation, and it was followed by a creaking sound. “Help me!” Young, possibly the Galra that the piece of ceiling had knocked out earlier. “Please.” The sobbing reminded Keith of how Galra were just as capable of feeling fear as the rest of them. They might’ve retreated less than any other race Keith knew of, but it didn’t mean they wanted to die.

There was more creaking and sounds of tumbling as something crashed on the floor. The block above Keith seemed to shudder, and he feared whatever the other Galra was trying to move was attached to it. “Stop it! You’ll just bring everything down and crush us both!” For a moment, all he got was silence.

Then the Galra responded, voice tight, “You’re one of the attackers, aren’t you?” Keith was surprised there was hardly any hostility in his voice. “I don’t think I’ve heard your voice before.”

Keith stared at the block, fearing the crack on it would get larger. He took a moment to answer, wondering whether he should be honest or not. “Yeah,” he said finally, “Yeah, I am.”

He heard a joyless chuckle. “Shitty planning on your part. If you had thought about this more, maybe you wouldn’t be stuck here now. Instead, it all blew up on your faces.” The Galra chuckled, amused by his own pun.

“Wasn’t us,” Keith said.

“Alright, then who else? Voltron? Why would anyone come to this shit hole?”

“Why would Empire want to mine in here?” He didn’t receive an answer, but he hadn’t expected to.

The silence returned, and Keith, without thinking, shifted to get more comfortable. He hissed through gritted teeth as he remembered the rod stuck in his shoulder. His right hand was a tight fist, and the other pressed down on the wound on his side with a little more pressure until the worst was over.

Keith was startled again some time later when a tremor passed through the ruins. He’d heard the distant sound as something gave in under the pressure from above. He felt fear clench his stomach as he heard tiny pieces, mostly size of gravel, drop down like rain.

“Oh no! Oh no! I’m going to die in here!” the Galra panicked, and Keith knew he was trying to get free again, the creaking a telltale sign of that. The concrete above him slightly shifted again, and Keith’s breathing hitched and got quicker without him even noticing. He swallowed.  “You have to stop it-!“

“We’re both going to die in here! This junk will crush us!” The banging was nowhere near as audible as the Galra’s breaking voice. “Help! Help me! I’m down here, please!” He was shouting from the top of his lungs now, and he could hear shuffling as the Galra most likely tried to crawl from his own trap. “Save me! I’m here, help!” The Galra grunted, and the creaking was replaced by crumbling and scraping of concrete on concrete and ceramic floor. The block above Keith shifted further down to one side, dropping debris on him and filling the air with dust.

“Stop-!” His own coughing interrupted him. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the small world that was his body. He had to stop coughing so he could stop moving! He tried holding his breath, but it did nothing. He felt the floor beneath tremble again, and the pressure on his feet got heavier. He inhaled on instinct, drawing more of the dust into his lungs. He only barely heard the heavy thud nearby through all the noise he himself was making. His hand moved from his side to his shoulder, gripping as the pain got more intense.

It was a long while before he felt even remotely calm again. He hurt all over, but currently, his legs were the worst. He was afraid the beam pressing against them cut off the blood circulation, and if he was going to be stuck in here for much longer, then he’d lose them.

He had to fight against the temptation to sit up, to yank his feet free because he knew he would only make matters worse. Besides, there was no room for him to sit up, so even if he hadn’t been nailed to the to his current position, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything more than he could now to save his legs. He needed someone else to come here if he wanted to survive this with all his limbs still attached and healthy.

‘ _No one is coming for me_ ,’ he remembered, reminded himself. ‘ _Blades don’t care, and the Voltron doesn’t know. You’re alone._ ’ He swallowed, feeling the hurt years old rising its head within. ‘ _Again._ ’

He really needed to get away from here, but he didn’t know how that was ever going to happen. Maybe the Galra was right, and he was going to die in here.

He realized he hadn’t heard him for a while now. No shouting, no sounds of him trying to move the rubble, nothing. “You still in there?” Of course he was, he thought. The Galra was still there. Silenced. Dead. Crushed underneath all the concrete and metal he’d tried so desperately escape from. Crushed like he had predicted would happen. He wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was Keith.

 

* * *

 

The baker looked at Keith with that same pity she always had ever since his dad passed away. She had known them both for a long time, and whenever there were leftovers from the day, she’d gift them to the two as they passed by.

She still handed Keith the leftovers, but her wide smile was never there to greet him anymore. Keith wasn’t sure why she was like that. His dad and Alice had seemed like friends, but Keith himself didn’t know much about her besides her name and that she lived in an apartment above her bakery with her daughter. Why she cared so much for him when he’d hardly ever talked to her, Keith couldn’t tell.

These days, she usually didn’t say much, just a greeting and a ‘here you go’ as she handed the bread and the pastries to him. When Keith turned away, he knew she would keep looking after him with that same expression. He’d looked over his shoulder a couple of times and seen it.

He’d only taken a few steps when he noticed a familiar face approaching. He wasn’t sure, at first, from where he knew him, but then the man shouted a greeting at the baker, and Keith remembered. “Hey there, Alice!” he said, hand raised. Keith halted, wondering if the man even remembered him anymore. It had been over a year since he’d told the group of bullies to scram, and they hadn’t met since.

“Oh, hi, Shiro!” Alice greeted back, sounding a lot more cheerful than she had looked a moment ago. “I heard you got into Galaxy Garrison. Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” The man, Shiro, froze, smile still on his lips, as his eyes slid from Alice to Keith. He frowned, and Keith knew he didn’t remember. “We’ve met, haven’t we?”

Keith didn’t say a word, but the baker chipped in, walking next to Keith. “This boy here is Keith. He sometimes comes here,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Keith duck away from the touch, giving the woman a nasty look.

The man’s eyes brightened. “I remember! It’s been a while, but you’re that kid from the alley, aren’t you?” The smile returned to his face. “I’m glad to see you’re doing fine.”

Alice sighed sadly. “Well, the poor kid is doing alright, his situation considered.” Keith frowned at the way she spoke like he wasn’t even there anymore. “I just wish he’d let someone look after him.”

Shiro didn’t ask, and Keith had a feeling he could now also remember the words Keith had told him as they’d gone their separate ways: ‘ _I don’t have a family._ ’

“Keith, do you have anywhere to go tonight?” he asked as if he was talking to a friend.

Keith scoffed. “What does it matter to you?”

“It’s going to be a cold, rainy night. If you’ve got nowhere else to go, you could stay at my place. My parents are out of town, so there’s room for a guest. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Alice gave Keith an encouraging look. “Go on, Keith. Shiro is a nice young man, and I would hate to think about how you’re stuck outside in a horrible weather if you don’t go.” Apparently, Alice was well aware of Keith’s reluctance to go back to his foster families, and of how those families had long since given up on trying to stop him from running away from them.

Keith bit his lip, looking at the ground. It wasn’t the thought of a warm bed and a roof to sleep under that got him to hesitate. He didn’t know these people well, and he couldn’t trust them. He looked at Shiro for a long moment, reading him the best he could. The confidence he remembered was still there, but he was more relaxed than that day long ago. There was also something else…

He looked at Alice’s face. There. Slightly tilted head, brows down, the corners of her mouth pointing down so little it was hard to see. Pity. The feeling he saw in her was pity.

He looked at Shiro again. He was a little different, Keith realized. While he stood, waiting in silence, there was little trace of pity on his face. Rather, he seemed worried. Keith quite didn’t understand. He was accustomed to pity, and he had come to realize people felt sorry for him, the homeless kid living off the streets because he didn’t belong anywhere.

But worry. He remembered seeing that on his dad’s face, sometimes, when Keith had gone outside without telling him, and then came back late. He’d seen it when he’d fallen from a tree in front of him, and sometimes, when they talked of mom. There, among the longing, and love, was worry. Keith had never understood why.

Maybe Shiro pitied him, as well, but that wasn’t all.  That something awakened a familiar feeling within him, one he’d missed since he’d lost his dad. Maybe that was why he ended the silence with a nod and a quiet, “Alright.”

That night he learned that Shiro wasn’t too bad a person, and also that he was a terrible cook. Still, when he went to bed that night, he had a belly full of take-out food, and he felt a little less on edge than he usually did. He wanted to believe that this one night, while the raindrops hit the window outside, he would be able to sleep peacefully.

He turned to lie on his side and looked at the window. He could see streetlights as small dots against the thin, wine red curtains. He closed his eyes, the light too small to bother him in any way and took a deep breath. Right now, he couldn’t think of a single reason to regret accepting the offer and coming here.

Maybe, just maybe, he could eventually learn to trust Shiro.

 

* * *

 

He was sure it was night, going by how cold it had gotten, and he had nothing to protect him from it. He shivered in his small prison, hoping more than anything that he was back on Earth, in his own cot. On the desert, where he could go wherever, and nothing held him down. Or perhaps with Voltron. Had he still been with them, they would be searching for him by now. With his lion, with the bond they had shared, he would be safe already.

No. He stared at the piece of concrete less than a foot and half from his face like it had offended him. He wouldn’t think about that. He had chosen to leave. Lance hadn’t been the odd man out. It had been a seed that had taken root that day when the Blue Paladin had come to him for advice. Shiro would come back, and he would man Black. Blue had accepted Allura, Red chose Lance. He hadn’t thought about it on that day, but when Shiro returned, he wasn’t surprised to find himself thinking he would have to go. Allura had said that the Blade could go on without him, but the Voltron, and more importantly, they, could not. She had been wrong. They could all go on without him. He had chosen to leave because Blade had been his best chance at fighting battles that mattered, and to get the answers his dad had never given him.

He dozed off occasionally but couldn’t get any real sleep. Soon, too soon, the morning crept in, and the cold scurried away like a mouse that had spotted a cat, and the heat leaped in. The stone all around him trapped the heat just like it had trapped him, and no longer was he shivering, but sweating, yearning for more water than he could get from the tiny droplets dropping next to him from somewhere above, less and less often. His stomach had long ago stopped demanding for food. It was an empty pit he couldn’t fill, but after ignoring it for long enough, it had stopped growling.

His pain was a constant ache in the background. He could almost compare it to a music playing in a mall, there all the time, to the point it wasn’t there anymore. Just ignored, and he was getting used to his pain. He knew to expect it to assault him at even the slightest movement, and he had gone from yells and cries of pain to grunting and hissing. Even when he didn’t think he’d been moving, he was never surprised when the intense feelings shot through him, going past him like a bullet train, and leaving pain and silence scattered around and within even after it had long since been gone.

He moved his right arm to gather some of the water dripping from the ceiling. He didn’t know if it was safe to drink, but it was either possibly tainted water or dehydration. He brought his trembling hand slowly closer to his mouth, doing his best to ignore his shoulder. There wasn’t much on his palm, and even less of it made it to his mouth, but it was better than nothing. The water was cool, and it didn’t taste off, except for the dusty aftertaste. He truly wished there had been more on his palm, all he wanted was to drink.

He repeated the process many times to quench his thirst, and he would’ve yearned for much more, but the pain was getting too much to bear, burning his shoulder and arm. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and fell down the side of his face, and his whole arm shook with even the slightest use. He couldn’t rise it, so he had to let it rest and be content with what he’d gained.

Somehow, he found it difficult to.

 

* * *

 

“Maybe you should try bonding with people,” Shiro suggested.

Keith turned around to lie on his stomach, looking at him with one brow up. “Bonding?”

Shiro chuckled as he spoke, “Yes. Spend time with other people, get to know them. I can’t be with you all the time, and it doesn’t hurt to have more than one friend.”

Keith sat up, a book on the edge of the bed falling on the floor. Shiro reached for it and passed it back to Keith. “I’m just fine without friends,” Keith said.

Shiro’s smile was amused. “Then what am I to you? Some stranger helping you to prep for the entrance exam?”

"No!” Keith opened his mouth to continue, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He looked down at the book on his lap, suddenly finding the previously boring yellow cover interesting. “You’re a friend,” he said quietly, unsure. But that sounded wrong, he realized.

Shiro seemed happy enough with the answer, however, getting back on his homework. Keith opened his book, letters forming words in front of him, but his thoughts blocked his understanding of them. “I’ll go grab some water,” he said, finally, tired of trying to concentrate when he’d been sitting still for too long.

“Sure, go ahead,” Shiro said without looking away from his notebook.

The sun was setting outside, and the house was dim. Keith had no trouble walking through the familiar apartment even if he’d had his eyes closed, so he didn’t bother turning on the lights.

He opened the cupboard, and before he even realized something was happening, his hand shot out. He caught a glass that had most likely been too close to the edge. He closed the door, got himself cold water, and walked over to the living room to stand by the window.

He saw a family walk by, a small child jumping ahead of their parents, splashing in a puddle before dashing towards another. An older kid walked next to their parents, but the moment his sibling fell, he ran ahead to pick them up to see if they were fine. The smaller kid stood up and went off running again, and the brother picked up the pace to keep up while their parents trusted him to look after them both.

Keith looked at pictures placed on the windowsill. One was of him, Shiro, and one of Shiro's friends. Shiro had been invited to someone's birthday party (his friend's? Friend's sibling's? He couldn't remember), and he'd asked Keith to come along, as well. He had refused, at first, thinking it would be a loud event with too many people around. Shiro had convinced him that wouldn’t be the case, and he’d eventually caved in, agreeing to go to at least see what it would be like.

The party had been less than ten people, spending most of the evening gathered around a table, playing board games. The picture was taken in the midst of one, though Keith couldn’t recall which it had been. Shiro’s friend had seen the camera, grabbed the people closest to him -Shiro and Keith- and grinned widely while looking at the camera. Shiro’s smile wasn’t as big, but it was still there, warm, as Keith had come to know it. Keith himself looked at the guy with wide eyes, mouth opened to protest, leaning back from the sudden contact.

There was also a picture of Shiro and his family. He didn’t talk about them much, but Keith knew Shiro loved his parents more than Keith could even imagine. The picture in question had been taken on a holiday, the blue, open ocean opening behind them, as they stood before a stone fence, teenaged Shiro in the middle, nearly as tall as his father.

Keith looked back out of the window, thinking.

Family. He quite wasn’t sure what to think about it. His dad was gone, but at least he could still remember his face. But he hadn’t always been there, eyes on his books and charts, hands busy making notes Keith, to this day, couldn’t decipher. Many unanswered questions about him, even more about mom. He loved to talk about the space, and all his research on it, but all Keith had for his simple question, “Why is it so important to you?”, were vague answers. He’d never told why space meant so much to him, not even when it had been such a big part of him. So, Keith didn’t really know his dad, nor the meaning of family, the kind that walked down the street without a worry, the kind that was always there for one another, supporting when one fell down instead of constantly running into hidden worlds the rest couldn’t follow. He wondered if that even existed.

He blinked, looking over his shoulder towards Shiro’s bedroom. The light flooded from the open door, and Keith felt like he finally knew why it had felt so wrong to call Shiro a friend.

He wasn’t one, he thought. He was family.

 

* * *

 

Victory or death.

Knowledge or death.

Galra culture seemed to be about absolutes, Keith realized. It didn’t make sense for people seek for death starting at birth. Otherwise, the species wouldn’t last for long. No, everyone has a survival instinct. Every species wants to live, so it had to be the culture. He did understand the readiness to die, he had been ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good. But it still made him wonder.

Why would they be about the absolutes? Why did they think objectives more important than lives of their own? If every one of their own died during their missions of ‘or deaths’, who would be left behind? If no one stayed around to fight another day, wouldn’t there soon be no one left to fight? Sometimes they had to run to keep going, so they wouldn’t leave the future they so wanted to protect into the hands of those who wouldn’t be able to protect it.

Keith chuckled, a joyless sound from his throat. Did he really even care, when he was one of them? Maybe all this time lying around, unable to get anywhere, was starting to get to him.

The feeling of dry amusement soon passed, flushed down to the floor and through the cracks, leaving him with nothing: fear seemed to have fled from the acceptance, at least for now. He didn’t feel serene, but at least he no longer heard his own heart beating like that of a small bird, quickly, ready to order him to bolt. He felt like he might have come to terms with his fate.

He wanted to fall asleep. At least in dreams, he wouldn’t have to constantly remember his predicament, and he would be comfortable, even if it was only in his mind. He wouldn’t feel cold, and hopefully, he wouldn’t be alone. As much as he had craved silence and peace from others when he had been on the Castle Ship, he had still come to appreciate having people around him. They hadn’t been just anyone, they had been people he had learned to trust, fought alongside with. That’s what he wanted now, and that was something he couldn’t have as long as he’d stay awake.

His teeth were chattering, and he brought his arms to his torso to preserve some of the warmth. He missed something as simple as a bed, a good pillow and a warm blanket to wrap himself into.

A cold drop fell on his cheek, and he turned to look to his side. He stared at the space in front of him. There was something important he was supposed to be aware of. He frowned. What?

Another drop, which this time hit the tip of his nose. He looked up and noticed a droplet hanging from the edge of the concrete. Just as Keith assumed it was going to drop, something somewhere above rumbled. Pieces of concrete hit the floor, both near him and somewhere behind all the fallen walls. He kept staring at the same spot.

Something was constricting in his stomach, in his throat.

Right. Fear.

A small sound of water hitting the floor carried to his ears. Second went by, and then it repeated. The shift in the ruins had helped him, oddly enough. From wherever the water had been dropping on his face, its route had been changed a little.

And he hadn’t yet been crushed. He’d take whatever he got.

 

* * *

 

It was the day he’d been waiting for since before even getting his acceptance letter. Upon waking up he was full of energy that just waited to be unleashed, helping him through his morning faster than usual. He felt light, almost as if the excitement was turning into wings on his back.

Today he would get to fly for the first time in his life.

Just the simulator, of course, but it was still something. He’d heard from Shiro it could in no way beat the real thing, but it was exhilarating nonetheless, especially on the first flight.

The morning started in a classroom, the teacher taking attendance and going through the rules one more time before telling everyone to arrange into a neat line. There was excited whispering as they were led to the simulator room. Keith tapped his finger to his thigh. It took all his willpower to not tell everyone to walk faster.

Once they reached the simulator room, it took a while, way too long, before people had settled and quieted down. The teacher in the front walked back and forth, hands behind his back, as he spoke, “Your mission is to take the shuttle for a small flight within the atmosphere and then turn back. If you fail, try again. This a simple mission, cadets, but it will take a while to get a hang of the simulator, so don’t feel bad when you fail.”

People around Keith were making whispered bets on how long they would be staying in the air, how many times they would crash before even getting up there. Keith didn’t take part in that, concentrating on the first group entering the simulator. They would be able to follow their progress on a large screen on the wall.

The first team failed their take-off three times before finally getting the craft to stay in the air. The flying was unsteady, and the eventual landing was just an inch away from going from successful to a disaster. The second team did slightly better, possibly learning from the feedback of the previous one, and the fifth team headed outside the atmosphere, heading third of the way to the moon before turning back and getting hit by space rock before they were able to re-enter. The instructor reminded them that while this was an open simulation, they were not ready to explore the space yet.

His team’s turn came, and Keith felt the thrill and nervousness roughhouse inside him. He didn’t let it show, leading his team to the simulator.

The pod was small, and in just a few steps he got to the pilot seat. He glanced around, taking in where everything was, before he sat down, the world around him shrinking into just that one room. He looked at the control board and the handles, hands sliding to their places as if this was routine to him. “You two ready?” he asked over his shoulder from his assigned mechanic, Kathrine, and communications officer, Imani.

“Yeah,” Kathrine confirmed.

“We’re good to go,” said Imani.

Keith flipped a couple of switches, getting the pod ready for takeoff. Whatever nervousness might’ve been there a moment ago had left him, washed away by the rain of concentration, leaving him with the here and now.

“Taking off,” he informed the crew, and the pod trembled slightly as he guided it along the stripe of land. To the air. Higher. Higher. There was land below them. Then a country, surrounded by oceans. The blue above giving way to the blackness of the space. They left the atmosphere. His hands went to fix the position of the shuttle, to adjust the power the engines used, it all happening without him even realizing it. He knew what he had to do. He didn’t have to stop to think about it.

He had no idea how much time had passed -it seemed unimportant- when the craft started rumbling. Keith felt it was more difficult to keep in check, almost as if it was fighting against him.

“We’ve got a problem. Something’s hogging energy,” his mechanic said.

Keith glanced at the control board, flipping switches and pushing buttons. The cabin dimmed, and the steady hum of the air supplier quieted down noticeably. “I can give you two minutes to fix it,” he said.

“Two minutes?!” Kathrine exclaimed, the huffed in amusement. “I’ll do it in half the time,” she said, and Keith could hear the grin in her voice. He saw a large rock coming their way, and he immediately steered the ship from its path, knowing he had to take into notice the slowed reaction time of the engines. He doubted they would have crashed even if he’d spotted it later, though.

Almost true to her word (it took fifty-three seconds, in the end), Kathrine had the problem fixed, and Keith could return all the functions back to normal. He thought it was probably time to get back to Earth, and he relied this information to his crew.

He guided the craft down to a bumpy landing. They still didn’t crash, and they came to a stop only slightly off the marked place. As the window went black, Keith blinked.

Right. This had been a simulation.

He reluctantly stood up from his seat, looking at the other two waiting for him by the door.

"Dude, thanks for the ride. It was a lot better and more exciting than I dared to expect,” Imani said, going to slap his shoulder but then deciding better of it, and just offered a hand to shake.

“Yeah,” Kathrine agreed. “If not doing as you’re told is this awesome, then I’ve been following rules for nothing.”

What did she – oh. Oh, right. He’d flown them way further than they had been instructed to. Not that he regretted not sticking near to Earth. He’d repeat this anytime, without a question.

He opened the door and stepped into the much brighter room. He was met with a cacophony of noise that soon cut off as the teacher said, “Keith Kogane.”

Keith stopped, facing the man without a hint of remorse.

“Great flying out there. But you better not sneak in during the night to practice anymore.”

“Wha- No, I haven’t –“

The man laughed, before doing what Imani had stopped himself from doing just a moment before, slamming his large hand on Keith’s shoulder. “At ease, cadet. I was just joking. I can’t wait to see how far you’ll fly one day.”

 

* * *

 

He groaned weakly. God, he was tired. It was the kind of exhaustion that pounded your head, made you feel sick to the core. He shivered, unsure if the night was falling again already, or if the cold came from within. As the hours had passed, his thoughts had taken a grim turn from home to death. Would he eventually run out of oxygen? If so, how long did he have left? Or would something else take him before that?

He went to blink his eyes, but instead of opening again, they stayed closed. His surroundings wouldn’t change no matter how often he’d look around, and he was sure he’d seen all there was to see. If something would come down on him, he knew he wouldn’t want to watch it happen, or even be awake for it. He had spent enough time in his life feeling afraid, and for at least one moment down here, where he was trapped with his imminent death, he wanted to be at peace.

 

* * *

 

Pidge sat by the table, chin on its surface, hands playing something with a screw and what seemed like a piece of plastic. Her expression couldn’t have been further from enthusiastic.

Not that Keith was teeming with excitement, himself. He had his feet on the table, arms on his chest, and his eyes closed, facing the ceiling of the castle’s kitchen. Their morning had started with action, as they were called to defend Nizwey from the Galra. The battle had been over before noon local time and had been followed by a successful landing and much less thrilling politics.

The two of them were the only ones inside, excluding the mice. The others were out on ‘delicate negotiations’, on which Pidge -on the edge after being so close to finding her family only to be let down again- nor Keith -after getting into a heated argument with the local general about Keith blowing up a Galra ship that the Nizweyans had helped build (they were extremely proud of anything and everything they made)- were welcome. Officially they were on castle watch duty, just in case, but they both knew this was more of a house arrest.

“Aaargh!” Pidge threw her toys away in frustration. Keith opened his eyes to look at her. “I hate this! I should be out there looking for my family, but instead, I’m stuck here on some stupid planet because of some stupid negotiations.”

Keith threw his legs off the table, leaning on it with his elbow. “Didn’t you have time to search for where they took them?”

“The whole ship blew up before I could,” she said with a pointed look.

Keith looked away for a bit, red tinting his cheeks. “Sorry. But you did have time to find something, right?”

Pidge slumped. “Yeah. But my dad was there months ago. I had to leave before I could find out more.”

The silence fell heavy, and Keith found himself tapping the table with his fingers. Maybe he should just hit the training deck to use some of his extra energy.

Pidge looked at him when he stood up. “Where are yo-“

An alarm interrupted her. They both froze before sharing a look, expressions falling serious. Without so much as a word, they rushed out of the kitchen, heading out to the deck to find what had triggered the alarm.

Pidge dug out the surveillance footage, and they both looked through the screens to see the possible intruder. “There!” Pidge pointed at a scene from one of the lower floors. A dark figure flashed by too quickly for them to identify as an enemy or a local.

“Come on,” Keith said, already heading towards the elevator, Pidge hot on his heels. Once inside, the doors shut behind them, and they began their smooth descent.

Which only lasted for ten or so seconds before the lights began flittering as the elevator trembled. It came to a stop, and they were trapped in a dark, unmoving box.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Keith hissed.

“Do you think it’s that whoever?” Pidge asked, looking around to see if she could solve their problem.

“Probably. Can you get us out?” For a moment, Keith dared to hope they were going to move again as the lights turned back on. The elevator didn’t move.

Pidge sat on her knees and tapped on what Keith thought might’ve been an invisible numpad. Six beeps, then a click, and Pidge removed a panel from the wall. “I think so.”

“How long?”

“Without my tools?” Pidge’s hands and head disappeared into the hole in the wall. “A couple of minutes.”

Keith huffed but didn’t say anything. He knew Pidge would succeed. He just hated the waiting.

 

* * *

 

He took a deep, heavy breath, wheezing. He started coughing mid-breath. Had he had any voice left in him, he would’ve at least whimpered. Now, he just let the air from his lungs, tears falling from the corners of his eyes.

Going like this, like a wolf caught in a leghold trap, with no way out, just slow, agonizing _waiting_ for the inevitable, this wasn’t what he wanted. Yet maybe this was what he’d expected. Alone, no one to hear him. Life would go on after him. Voltron would keep fighting, as would the Blades. Feeling like his life meant very little again hurt, tearing into his heart-

As he took a deep breath, his coughing began anew. He wanted to curl up to ease the pain in his lungs, but he couldn’t. He wanted to fill them with air, but it only kept him hacking longer. He wanted to swallow that lump that had formed in his throat at his thoughts.

‘ _Where’s your survival instinct? Where’s your will to keep fighting to prove yourself?_ ’

He clenched his jaw, uncertain. Was that voice someone talking to him? He didn’t recognize it as his, or anyone else’s, and he couldn’t tell if it had been inside his head.

Unable to come up with any answers, he closed his eyes, allowing himself some rest from the world.

 

* * *

 

 Pidge’s victorious but quiet “Yes!” was accompanied by a jerk as the elevator began moving again. “Pidge one, intruder zero.”

Keith doubted the stranger would be where they’d seen them anymore, but it would still be as good a place to start as any. They exited to a large, dim storage room that likely hadn’t seen active use in ten thousand years or so. The crates and old tech were covered in a sheet of dust that had gathered since the last cleanup Coran had arranged as a ‘team bonding exercise’, but hopefully, that would work to their advantage.

Pidge waved to him, and Keith went over, keeping an eye out for the intruder. She pointed at a table whose dust had been partially wiped away as someone had walked over it. It didn’t seem like whoever was here was big. If they weren’t smaller than Pidge, Keith would be surprised. No reason to not be cautious-

Bare feet slapping against the floor. Keith and Pidge both rushed to the direction of the sound. It wasn’t for long, but Keith spotted the figure as it hurried from behind one crate to another. He made a sharp turn to the right to where he’d last spotted the figure. A painting toppling over was all he needed to know which way to go.

Keith realized Pidge wasn’t with him anymore when he saw her up ahead. Going by her determined look, she had spotted their target. She followed them between a ten-feet-high pile of boxes. Keith ran by them from the side, and the intruder emerged right in front of him.

Keith jumped. His arms wrapped around them, and they landed on the floor.

“Keith, wait-!“

Keith kept his hands tightly on the intruder as he got to his knees. “Stop runni- huh?” He was expecting furrowed brows and a furious snarl of an enemy, not an excited face of a child. Her yellow hair stuck to her round, flushed blue face, and her smile only widened as Keith let his hold on her slacken. “Let’s play again!” she said, jumping up and down almost like there were springs at the soles of her feet. Keith looked at Pidge, feeling lost. This hadn’t been what he’d expected.

Pidge shrugged. She crouched in front of the kid. “Who are you?”

“Cire!” She stopped her bouncing to look at Pidge more closely. “You’re pretty!” she then declared, and Pidge chuckled.

“Thanks. You’re pretty, too, Cire. How did you get in here?”

“Through the door when the other Lion people came out,” Cira said as if it was obvious. “When I came to this room, that loud sound started. Then I went there,” she pointed to the other end of the storage room, to an open door. “I tripped. It went really dark for a while.”

Keith looked on in silence as Cire explained how she’d come here because she was bored since her parents were busy, and she had wanted to play with someone. After hearing the Paladins were allies, she thought they would be willing to spend time with her.

“I’m going back up,” Keith said, hoping to avoid ending up as the kid’s entertainer.

“We’ll come, too. We should probably let the others know one of the Nizweyan kids is with us.”

Turned out, the kid’s absence had been noticed, and people had been afraid a surviving Galra had kidnapped the girl to later make their demands. Shiro told them her parents would come in after the negotiations, and so they -or mostly Pidge- ended up entertaining their guest until she started to tire.

They were in the common room, sitting on the couch and watching as Cire tried to teach the mice some tricks: turned out, Platt was a master of rolling over to its back, but less enthusiastic about getting up.

Yawning, Cire got up and clambered on the couch, snuggling between Keith and Pidge, curling up like a cat. She fell asleep almost instantly and didn’t even stir when Keith switched his position to a less sitting, more half-laying.

“She makes me think about my family,” Pidge said, petting the girl’s hair. “Dad was often busy with his work, and when he was away a long time, I’d always hide when he came home so he could seek me.” The smile on her face was fond. “He always pretended he couldn’t find me. Matt joined in sometimes.” She chuckled quietly, careful not to wake Cire. “Once mom hid with us. It was his birthday, so I don’t think he was really surprised when we jumped at him.” Pidge wiped her face, but Keith pretended not to see. “I really miss them.”

Keith turned his head to properly look at Pidge. “We’ll find them,” he promised.

Pidge nodded. “I know.” She raised her gaze from the alien to meet his. “What about you, Keith?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your family like? You never talk about them”

His eyes went to his hands on his lap. “I’m an orphan.”

Pidge looked down. “…Oh.” She began fidgeting with her fingers. Keith didn’t know what to say to make her feel less awkward, so he remained quiet.

Pidge suddenly broke the fallen silence with a grin on her face. “I think Lance is the loud little brother. Protective, too, but we all are.” Keith raised his eyebrows, and she continued, “Hunk is the nice brother, and I’m the genius little sister. And Shiro-“

A small smile found its way on Keith’s face. “He’s my brother.”

“See, you do have a family.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “Guess I do.”

 

* * *

 

He swore he wasn’t alone. He was certain he heard skittering from somewhere on the other side of the wall of rubble that was located to his left. He looked there, hoping to spot even the smallest crack, wishing to see a shadow scurry past quickly before disappearing again into the ruins.

Nothing. His ears kept hearing the sound, like a mouse searching for something right by his ears, but his eyes didn’t see anything they hadn’t spotted before.

Was he going crazy? With no escape, food, and hardly any water to sustain him, it was possible. He wanted to assure himself that wasn’t the case, but he knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t matter what he believed. He could keep telling himself all would be fine, eventually, even if there wasn’t going to be a rescue. But what good would it do? To die hoping he wouldn’t, that someone would magically swoop in and fly him to safety?

“Hope helps people to survive.”

Keith startled, hissing, and looked towards the sound. There, on his stomach, stood a mouse. Glowing neon green, like a small light that was painful to look at. But he did and thought there was something off about the animal. He furrowed his brows.

“Did you just speak?”

The mouse stood on its hindlegs, and he noticed it was larger than its average brethren on Earth. It was almost the size of a rat. But that wasn’t the part that bothered him. What was…?

“Did you just speak?” the mouse asked, getting back down on all fours, and walking over to his chest. It tilted its head. “What are you?”

Keith didn’t have the time to compose an answer, when another voice spoke, “It’s some weird animal.” He looked around, trying to spot the source of the hollow voice, but saw nothing. “In here, you blind bat,” the voice called, and Keith looked back at the mouse.

On its side was a mouth. A wide mouth with a row of sharp teeth and no tongue. Behind those teeth was just darkness that even the glow of the mouse couldn’t escape. “What are you looking at?” it asked sharply. Keith remained silent. “Hey,” it continued, “what is it looking at?”

The mouse looked at its side, then at Keith, then at the mouth again. “I think it’s looking at you.”

Finally, Keith managed to form words, though his voice was weak, hardly audible. “Are you even real?”

The mouse squeaked in a way that sounded like laughter. “We might be. Maybe we’re real and you’re just our imagination.”

The mouth huffed. “Nothing is real. Real is subjective. You’re real to us, we’re real to you. We don’t exist to some.”

“But are you here?” Keith asked, “or in my head?” He had a feeling this just couldn’t be real, even this far away from Earth. There was something off, something that he couldn’t see, and in a way that shouldn’t be.

The creature tilted its head again. “Maybe.”

Keith furrowed his brows. That wasn’t an answer, was it?

The mouth let out a sound like a yawn, and it seemed to echo endlessly. “We’re tired. Shouldn’t we sleep? This talk is pointless.”

You came here to me, Keith wanted to say, but this time, no sound left him. Just a pitiful hiss of air.

"We want to sleep,” the mouth repeated. The creature scratched behind its ear, and the mouth grunted in discomfort. Keith’s injured shoulder throbbed. He placed a hand there, squeezing it in a weak attempt to alleviate the pain

A drop of water fell on the small puddle on the floor, and Keith looked at it. Had it really been so long? Had enough time passed for a puddle to really form there?

Another drop.

"Uh-oh,” the mouse squeaked.

And another.

“Uh-oh,” the mouth said, more slowly.

The water didn’t come down in single, occasional droplets anymore. It was a steady trickling of a small stream, quickly turning from one on the hard floor to the sound of water on water. Keith looked at the spreading puddle, how its edges grew closer to him.

“Can’t swim now, can we?” the mouth said, and Keith looked back up.

Nothing. No mouse-like creature with a mouth on its side, glowing and looking out of place. It had abandoned the sinking ship.

He knew he should’ve been worried, by the water, by the mouse that might’ve not even been real, but he was too tired to be. Instead, he dozed off to the sound of water.

 

* * *

 

The plasma shot nearly nicked his scalp, but even for a moment, he hadn’t been afraid. The enemy behind him fell on the ground as the shot finished it. Keith stabbed another through its chest, pulling back as sparks started flying.

A steady group of sentries was approaching from the entrance, but Keith had already covered half the distance between himself and the computer at the center of the thirty feet high room, and there were many places behind which he could take cover.

“ _Go on, mullet, I’ll hold them back,_ ” he heard from his comm.

“All of them?” Keith was a little doubtful but decided now wasn’t the time for questioning. He rushed on, explosions behind him telling him he had no reason not to trust Lance with his back. Some would get through, but Keith would be able to handle them.

“ _Hey, they’re no challenge to me._ ” And to prove his point, Lance took down two sentries more accurately than Keith thought should’ve been possible in that one second that it took him.

Keith came to a halt in front of the screen, looking around for a slot. The computer was massive and had this been more complicated than just placing a memory stick into it, he would’ve not agreed on doing this. Originally it hadn’t been his job, but Pidge had taken a hit, and Hunk had been left to take her back to safety, while Shiro covered them from the outside. Lance had been assigned to his current position on the catwalk above from the beginning. It had left Keith with the duty.

“Pidge, any idea where I should be looking from?” Keith asked.

" _Look below the keyboard,”_ came Pidge’s strained answer. _“It’s probably small and easy to miss-“_

“Got it,” Keith interrupted, spotting a small hole about on the height his wrist was.

“ _Okay, insert the stick_ -“

“Did already.”

“ _And try not to mess things up Keith, this is important._ ”

“I know, I know,” he said, looking at the screen and hoping to see some kind of a sign that he had succeeded. The image of laughing Pidge popped there, and Keith figured that it meant he was good to go.

As he was turning around to head back to the door and towards the extraction point, Lance’s voice sounded through the comm, “ _There’s a door opening to your right._ ”

Keith called back his bayard as he noticed the large metal door sliding open. The way he’d entered banged shut, making the floor underneath tremble. A large hand grabbed the opening doorway. A gigantic something seemed to be forcing its way in, bending metal as it didn’t have the patience to wait to have enough room to pass through. Keith took a step back as he watched the humanoid robot’s leg hit the floor. An unlucky sentry got smashed underneath it, but he could barely hear the sound over the creaking joints of the machine. As it straightened, it’s head nearly touched the ceiling.

“ _What the quiznack is that?_ ” Lance asked. Keith saw a shot from him hit the face of the robot. It didn’t react in any way, just taking one long step before it brought down its hand in an attempt to smash Keith. He rolled out of the way, and the hand hit the floor. Oddly enough, it didn’t break it. Maybe it tried not to damage the room any more than it already had during its entrance. Still, he didn’t doubt there was enough power in that thing to kill him if it hit.

“ _The sentries are grouping by the entrance. We’re not getting out anytime soon,_ ” Lance told him as he shot down several of the smaller enemies.

The robot was about to hit Keith with its other hand. “Then we need to make a way out,” he responded as he leaped behind the computer, hoping it really was too important for it to destroy. A sentry approached from his right, but it dropped down just as Keith was about to behead it. “I had it,” he said, running to the other side of the computer while the large enemy was still trying to spot him.

“ _I know_ ,” Lance replied lightly.

Keith huffed as he came to a stop. The robot was now looking through the place where it had last seen Keith, and he could see its backside. “Hey, Lance, I think this is the weapon they were working on,” he said.

“ _You sure?_ ”

“Its backside isn’t well protected. It’s missing plating.”

“ _It’s like they want us to take it down.”_

“Well,” Keith pulled back as the robot’s head turned to look his way. “We better do it before it takes down us.”

There was a moment of silence, before Lance spoke again. Keith could hear he was smiling. “ _I think I have an idea._ ”

 

* * *

 

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know the water had nearly reached him. He’d been listening to the trickling sound for long enough, it couldn’t be far anymore. Sometimes he heard sounds far away, like if something heavy was being moved, and he figured the building was still collapsing as the rubble shifted.

He wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep, but he startled from whatever haze he’d fallen into when he felt something cold touch his arm. He raised his right hand an inch and opened his eyes just enough to see.

The line was hard to distinguish with the dark material, but it was still there, the lighter shade of dry black, and the darker, wet black. He let his hand fall back down with a small splash, one cold drop hitting his cheek.

Single, cold drop, that crept down his face, slowly, like a blade held against him to make him feel threatened, scared. And he was. Right now, it was just cold water on his face and by his arm, but sooner or later it would be rising to his sides, up, up, towards his mouth and nose, into his lungs…

“Don’t think about it,” he ordered himself in a whisper when he noticed his once calm breathing was again speeding up. “Maybe you won’t be here when it happens.”

He wasn’t sure if he meant he’d be saved by then, but he had a feeling he was referring to his own death.

A new sound carried to his ears. He listened intently, hoping to catch it again, though he soon wished he hadn’t.

The skittering was back. He froze, muscles tense, the breathing that had just been too fast now trapped within. He was almost afraid to open his eyes, to see that creature again. He didn’t want to have any weird conversations with it, nor did he want it to try to analyze him and his thoughts and feelings.

The nails scraped the floor, and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He wasn’t afraid of it, he just didn’t want to face the thing. That was all.

“Why bother?” He didn’t recognize the voice as the mouse’s or the mouth’s, and for a fleeting moment, he almost opened his eyes to see what was here this time around. Then he remembered again, how unpleasant a sight likely was waiting for him.

Another voice, the Mouth, spoke, “Why bother what?”

“He’s pretending he’s not scared, but for who? There’s no one here,” the new voice replied. There was something familiar about it…

“He’s all alone,” said the mouse, in a way that made his skin crawl. “He’s lying to himself.” It chuckled.

“But why bother?” the voice insisted. “There’s no use telling yourself lies because you know what they are.”

The Mouth whispered right next to his ear, and he swore he could feel it’s breath against him, cold as ice. “It’s the only it can do now.”

“Lies, lies, life of lies, make-believe and bedtime stories,” the mouse sang. It seemed to be far, almost like behind a wall now.

“But playing is what children do,” the unknown voice said from somewhere above Keith’s crushed legs. “It doesn’t look like a child.”

“I’m not,” Keith muttered. Was he just imagining it, or was the pressure on his legs worse? “And I’m not-“

Metal creaked. Concrete fell near and far. Dust in the air again, in his lungs. He didn’t even try to stop the coughing this time.

He was sure someone was sawing his legs off.

There were no screams left in him, so he just opened his mouth to let out silence.

 

* * *

 

 “This is a really bad idea!” Keith yelled as he ran from between the robot’s legs trying to get it to turn around. He had just barely avoided getting kicked and had he not duck in time, there would be a hole in his head from a sentry’s gun.

“ _Well I don’t see you coming up with a better one,_ ” Lance said as he kept shooting at the wires, and chains that held them to the ceiling.

“How much longer?” Keith duck as the enormous hand swung over him, throwing crates of electronics and tools around instead of him. So much for it being careful.

“ _Just a little while_ ,” assured Lance, and as if to back him up, one of the chains fell down in front of Keith. He chanced a look up, and it did indeed seem like the contraption above would give way soon. Hopefully before Keith got crushed.

One of the few surviving sentries stepped in front of Keith, its blaster lined up to his chest. He stepped to the side, stabbing it through the chest-

A crash had Keith turning around. For the shortest moment, everything seemed to freeze as he watched the robot swing its arm, destroying the catwalk above. There was a rain of metal and sparks. Keith’s focus was on the blue and white in the midair.

“Lance!” Keith needed to get the robot’s attention back to him. Lance would need some time to get back to his feet after that fall.

“ _Keith, what happened?_ ” he heard Shiro ask with worry in his voice.

“Lance’s down,” he said.

The plan. He cursed in his mind. He’d have to see the plan through or come up with a better way to win.

He grabbed the blaster of the sentry he’d just killed and aimed above. He was nowhere near Lance’s accuracy, but just a couple of hits would be enough.

He shot until he hit once. That’s when he had to retreat as the robot went after him. A sentry’s shot grazed his helmet. Another, the back of his knee. He fell down. He turned to eliminate the two remaining sentries from where he sat, then got down onto his back and shot at the wires again.

Zapping filled the air, soon joined by the clinking of the chains as they were left hanging. Some hit the approaching robots head as they swung, and it waved its hand like it was waving away a mosquito. The hand got caught in the exposed conductors, and electricity seized the opportunity, charging though the giant. Keith had a moment to realize that it might reach him through the floor, before the robot started falling down, no longer trying to move its limbs. He rolled out of the way. The floor trembled for a moment, then silence fell.

Keith stared at the destruction around him, then startled as he remembered Lance. He got up, rushing over to the debris. “Lance!” he yelled, hoping to hear an answer. He saw an arm covered in the familiar blue-and-white armor waving for attention, and he began to throw away what had piled on top of Lance. After lifting a long piece of the catwalk, Lance shot up to his knees, rubbing the back of his helmet. “Ow,” he said.

“Can you walk?” Keith asked as he looked over his shoulder. The robot was still twitching, sparks flying everywhere, it’s back smoking.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Lance said, taking Keith’s hand and getting to his feet. “That was a close one.”

“Tell me about it.” Keith let go of Lance’s hand as he reached out to their team. “We have to take another way out. Pidge?”

“I can lead you to an exit.” And so, Pidge’s voice guided them through the ship, making sure they got out just in the nick of the time, as the moment the two entered Yellow, they heard rumbling from the depths of the Galra ship. Pidge’s virus had overheated the systems, and the ship that had been experimenting on weaponry was swallowed by an explosion.

 

* * *

 

The sound of static was new. He dug his mind to come up with a possible source for it. The realization hit him like a bullet, and his eyes shot open, looking to the right, towards the static. Towards the comm. The screen flicked, blue, black, shades of blue and grey as it floated on the water. A voice, undecipherable words, carried to his ears. It was just out of his reach. If he could get his fingers on it, get it closer, he would be able to call for help.

He moved his right arm from where it lay, slowly, as the metal beam tried to stop him from doing so. He gritted his teeth, sure the beam tore his muscles at even the slightest jerk.

Somehow, he managed to straighten his arm towards the comm, but it was just a little far from the tips of his fingers, the small waves he’d created seeming to slowly take it further from him. He stretched more, sure the scraping he heard came from metal brushing against bone. A whimper escaped his throat. He could've almost sworn he could feel the comm through the fabric of his gloves, teasing him.

The comm cracked one last time, then fell silent. The dim blue turned dark, and he was left alone once again. He squeezed his eyes shut, not bothering to wipe away the tears that fell down from them. The was no one there to see him, after all, and he was just too tired to care anymore.

 

* * *

 

The heat on the planet was merciless, and their armors weren’t helping. The sweating was still a million times better than breathing in the toxic air around them, so Keith didn’t complain. Hunk didn’t, either, he was too busy wondering if there were centipedes here that could swallow them whole (according to Coran, there were). He jumped at nearly each sound, which were many in the jungle-like environment. The trees reached towards the sky, high as skyscrapers, and the undergrowth was thick and reaching higher than Keith’s face in many places. All in all, it wasn’t a human-friendly place.

“I kinda hope that distress signal wasn’t fake,” Hunk said from beside Keith. “I don’t want anyone to be hurt or anything, I’d just hate to come all the way over here,” he waved away a large, fluffy violet fly, “only to find these bugs.”

Keith’s only response was a raised hand as he noticed something from between the foliage. Hunk stilled immediately. “What?” he whispered. Keith moved some of the leaves aside, and they both got a good look at the small building. The sun was reflecting from its dark glass roof, which seemed to be the only way for the light to get in as Keith didn’t spot any windows. Though the guards looked like Galra judging by their armor, the pod that they were standing by didn’t look like one – and going by its condition, the Galra had agreed. Keith guessed it had been shot down, and whoever had been inside taken as prisoners.

“Guys,” Hunk spoke, “I think we found something. There are Galra and a busted ship.”

 “ _How many Galra?_ ” Shiro asked through the comms.

 “Three on the outside, hard to say how many inside,” Keith said. “But it’s not a big place.”

 “Alright. Lance, get to Blue and distract the enemy. Pidge and I will be at the Galra base shortly, as well.”

Lance, who’d been left to the Castle from where he could easily get to where he was most needed, whooped. “Finally, some action!”

A minute later, they saw more life at the base as Galra came out. Apparently, the distraction had started. “We’re going in,” Keith said. They had to take out two Galra on their way, but no one else saw them, too in rush to follow their orders to look behind the trees and rocks.

Once inside, they only ran into one dead-end before they found the prison cells. There were five of them. “Keep watch,” Keith whispered to Hunk, who nodded, eyes constantly shifting to every direction.

Keith opened the door and inside, he saw humanoid creatures that had many birdlike features: colorful feathers, arms doubling as wings, a beak where a nose would’ve been. They were small as human children, and so many had been forced into the cell they barely had room to move. “Come on, we’re helping you out,” Keith said, waving for them to come out, but the prisoners only huddled closer to the wall and one another. Hunk walked over, and Keith stepped to the side, figuring he was the better person to deal with this. Keith went to open the other door, tuning out Hunk’s encouraging words -“Don’t worry, we won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise. But we have to leave-“- and concentrated instead on keeping an eye out in case he saw enemies coming. For now, it seemed they had gone undetected.

Hunk was ushering the aliens to where Keith stood by the door. “Just, walk behind us, okay. If someone comes, we’ll take care of it.” The prisoners nodded their heads in a rapid manner, which looked comical to Keith. Almost like someone was fast-forwarding the motion.

They left the room, Keith well in front of the group and Hunk keeping rear. Three of the bird-people had decided to climb on Hunk, but that didn’t seem to slow him down at all.

Keith reached a door that would take them to the entrance room. He stopped to listen. “Hunk,” Keith whispered. “I hear someone coming.” Whoever they were, they were many, and they were in a hurry. “I think they know we’re here.” Keith took out his bayard. “Take these prisoners out, I’ll hold them back for a while.”

“No, you should come as well,” Hunk protested.

“The prisoners are slow, the guards will catch up. Wait until I’m gone.” Hunk swallowed before nodding, urging the prisoners to hide behind a corner. Keith hoped that was enough to have the enemy think he was alone.

He opened the door and rushed out, bayard ready. He was greeted by multiple sentries and five Galra. He’d manage, he thought as the took out the four sentries closest to him. Instead of staying around to fight, he ran through the enemies, only cutting those he could reach. He couldn’t get to the exit, so he instead headed for an open door on the other side of the room.

He didn’t have time to react. One step in through the door and something ran through him.

He stumbled, nearly falling down. The pain in his abdomen was bearable, he told himself that as he turned around to cut open the throat of the spear-wielding Galra.

He kept running, and the enemy followed.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, when he cracked his eyes open, he could see the mouse right in front of his face. At times, he thought he could hear the old radio from his childhood home, the one that cut off any time someone walked past it. He couldn’t place some things, like the scraping, or the flickering light, or the hand in his hair. He wasn’t trying to convince himself he was alone, not anymore. He knew it, but the battle would’ve been too draining, when all he wanted to do was sleep, to forget the pain, to forget he was forgotten. To forget he was parched, yet too weak to reach for the water that was touching him.

There was a quiet sound of something walking in water and a mouse-like squeak. He felt light weight on his right palm, and his fingers twitched. The weight moved along his arm and paused again at his shoulder. Keith tried to lift his left hand to shoo away the creature. Nothing. He could no longer move.

“Not now,” he mumbled.

He felt the tiny claws against his cheek for a second before air moved by his ear. “I was thinking, you might-“ The words faded into silence the closing darkness had dragged in before Keith could process them all.

 

* * *

 

His injury was grave, he knew, and over time, life-threatening. If he got to the healing pod within the next hour, he knew he’d have nothing to worry about. He’d survive. But the question was, how was he going to get there? He didn’t have his comm with him anymore, and though he hadn’t moved much after losing his helmet, there was no telling how long he would have to wait for the rest of the team.

He heard steps, metal on floor, the telltale signs of a sentry getting closer. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and got a stronger grip on his weapon.

He saw its shadow, and he thrust his sword up, expecting to impale the sentry before it had time to notice him.

Bayard though metal. The screeching sound was familiar to him. The pain that followed, less so.

Something hit his upper back, and he had only a moment to process what he saw: floor getting closer to his face.

The moment he hit the floor, he turned onto his side, hand on his knife, ready to throw it. He just couldn’t choose which enemy of the many he should target.

How had he failed to hear them all?

A Galra stepped forwards, taking advantage of his confusion. Little did he know, Keith wasn’t that easy a target. The hand that was approaching soon retreated, as the blade cut through it.

A shot from a sentry hit his shoulder. His knife fell down. He tried to reach for it, but the Galra stepped on his hand, grinding his heel against his knuckles. “I don’t think so,” he spat. Keith more felt than saw the muzzle of the gun being placed near his head. 

He was dying. No! Not like this. He clenched his jaw.

_He would not die here. He looked at the Galra straight in the eye, and he backed away slightly. But he wasn’t looking at Keith. His eyes were on something on the other end of the corridor._

_Multiple shots rained down on all the enemies. The Galra fell to his side, and a sentry fell on top of him. No longer was there a gun held against Keith._

_He lay his head against the floor. Hurried steps were approaching him, but he knew it was a friend._

_“Keith! Hey, Keith!” Hunk knelt down next to him. “Man, you look beat.”_  

“’m fine,” he muttered.

_“Dude, have you seen yourself? You’re far from fine! Can you even walk?”_

He weakly shook his head. “Legs are stuck.” They’d have to free them, first.

_Hunk lifted him up, Keith’s good hand going over his shoulder. “Everyone’s ready to leave once we get you out of here.”_

 Good. He didn’t want to stay here any longer.

_“Lance will meet with us soon. We think we got most of the enemies, but who knows what kind of hiding places they’ve got in here.”_

“None. The place is in ruins.”

Silence.

No answer.

He was scared to open his eyes, to see how alone he was.

No one was coming for him.

He knew, yet he had forgotten.

He shuddered and was unable to stop.

 

* * *

 

 They were all sat in the lounge after a long day of training and saving a Galra infested planet. Lance was sprawled next to Hunk, his long limbs pointing every which way. Pidge was leaning to the armrest, her legs going over Hunks lap and reaching Lance’s right thigh. Keith lay on the opposite side, eyes closed, muscles relaxed, as he listened to Lance going through the events of the day with the other two he was with. Shiro was sitting near Keith, silent as he, too, enjoyed the theatrics of the younger Paladins.

 “That Galra had no chance! I came down on him like whoosh-“

“You could do that only because I had his attention, which was your job-“

“Guys, we took him out. Yeah, we didn’t follow the plan, and yeah, it kinda looked bad there for a moment-“

“It’s not my fault that one those sentries malfunctioned!”

“You dropped that box of space acid on it.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because-“

“Alright, all three of you, calm down,” Shiro cut in. The sternness in his tone couldn’t cover the underlying amusement. “You all did a good job, today. We trained hard, and the Galra didn’t go easy on us, but we still won without any of us getting hurt. I’m proud of you.”

Keith smiled, a small tug that would’ve gone unnoticed by most. “And we’re proud of you, Shiro,” he said quietly, unsure and uncaring if the others had heard it.

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed. “You kept your cool and made an emergency plan like you had had it from the beginning. Which, you probably did,” he added thoughtfully.

“The five of us are invincible! Zarkon will crumble beneath us!” Lance declared, and Pidge and Hunk made noises of agreement. While Keith would’ve argued on some other day, and on another moment, today he just settled down more comfortably, allowing the trio to go on with their ridiculous plans of throwing the Galra down from their seats. Just today, they were invincible, and he didn’t mind that.

 

* * *

 

Time had passed, but instead of ceasing, the scraping was louder, now. He could hear it through his labored breathing. Through the wheezing that came from his throat every time he took in more than a gulp of air.

Something trembled. The ground, the walls, maybe just himself. He cracked his eyelids open, just a little. A sliver of bright light assaulted him, blinding him. He closed them, letting out a short, slow sigh. He thought someone was calling to him, but he figured it was the mouse. Or the third, unknown voice, it sounded more like it. Softer than the mouse and the mouth. Distantly familiar. Safer, somehow.

The stream of fresh, cool air, he figured, must’ve been the mouth breathing on him. He shuddered, not even noticing the pain it caused anymore. He waited for it to whisper, but it remained silent. Maybe it had nothing to say to him, anymore. Maybe it waited for Keith to speak. He couldn’t.

Loud scraping. Was the Galra still alive, after all? Trying to get out? Or maybe the mouse was digging by his ears. Small claws scratching against the concrete he was leaning against.

It was faint, but the pressure on his thighs shifted. He felt the water against his torso, more than halfway past his sides, but he wasn’t sure if it had reached his feet yet, or if he even had feet anymore.

The light behind his eyelids seemed stronger, now, like if he was lying in broad daylight back on Earth. Light at the end of the tunnel. Home, after such a long time of wandering. He could finally stop fighting. He felt oddly peaceful.

Something pressed against his good shoulder. Weakly, with as much effort as it would’ve once taken to lift an armful of logs, he turned his head an inch to see why the mouse felt so heavy, now.

Through his half-closed eyes and darkening vision, he saw something move. Like through water, he heard the third voice say, “It’s okay, Keith. We’re taking you home.”


End file.
